Kite's Worst Nightmare
by Durbe the Barian
Summary: The Tenjo boys are starting school. For most people, this would be fun, but for Hart and Kite, it would be more fun if they didn't have to worry about certain problems. And Numbers are just one of those problems. Better summary inside. My first multi-chapter Zexal fanfic.
1. Big Changes, Bigger Issues

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Kite's Worst Nightmare

(Takes place after receiving the Legendary Number from Jinlong, but before the duel between Gilag and Yuma.)

**Don Thousand grows even more irritated by the minute, sending Vector into perpetual agony. To ensure that Yuma and co. stop collecting the Legendary Numbers, Number 96 gives a certain Number Hunter a card to ensure the demise of his friends.**

**Family/Friendship and a little bit of brotherly humor. **

**(Disclaimer for story: I don't own. If I did, this probably wouldn't happen.)**

**Chapter 1**

**Big Changes, Bigger Issues.**

(Please note that I am using the english translation names. Kaito is Kite, Haruto is Hart, Kotori is Tori, you get the picture.)

Vector was resting in his room. It was a large, crystal room, as was normal for the Barian world. He was resting on his large bed, curled up into a ball to stop the pain that came with harboring the spirit of Don Thousand. The great Barian had proven that when Vector ever even thought of doing something against his orders, he would be met with sever agony originating from his crystal heart. Often times, Vector had caught himself wondering whether or not defeating Yuma was worth the torture that the Barian spirit was putting him through. But when those thoughts went through his grey spiky head, he would shake his head and let those thoughts fly out of his dark grey ears. Ever since his first loss to Yuma while he possessed Dr. Faker, Kite's father, he had set his eyes on beating Yuma so he could suffer the same way he had. So there he was, in agony, because of Don Thousand's anger. "Vector," a voice said.

Even though Vector could be labeled insane – no scratch that – IS insane, the voice in his head was not an illusion. It was the voice of Don Thousand. Before he had welcomed that voice, but after going into the Number's Ruins of the Legendary Number 65, he instinctively shuddered when that voice was heard. "Don Thousand!" Vector said, attempting to maintain his cool.

"Yuma and his team are starting to get on my nerves," Don Thousand said. The hiss in his voice was as obvious as Vector's insanity. "We can't continue to hunt the Legendary Numbers if they keep interfering."

"And what would you want me to do about it?" Vector asked.

If Don Thousand expected him to sneak into Yuma's team and impede their process, it was a hopeless idea. That chance died when he revealed himself to Yuma and his team. But no, Don Thousand had a better idea. "Go to Number 96," he said. "I have a plan that he is to help in."

Vector didn't want to even go near that monster called a Number, but he got out of his bed and left his room nonetheless.

"School?!" two voices rang out in Heartland Tower.

Kite and Hart were standing in their father's study. Dr. Faker had called them from whatever it was they were doing and told them to meet him for something important. Apparently, Dr. Faker had noticed that both his sons had been dropping hints about their lack of an actual education. While both of his boy's were unbelievably intelligent, they lacked a great deal of social skills, Hart because of his illness, Kite because of his occupation prior to Hart's recovery. Just recently, Kite was reading Hart a bedtime story and then, when he was certain that Hart was asleep, had begun doing some quick schoolwork he had been doing online for the past week. Neither boy noticed that Faker was watching Kite do his work at night.

So Faker had reached the conclusion that his sons deserved an education and a chance to spend more time with their friends. So he had scheduled a couple of quick entrance exams to Heartland Middle and High school respectively. "Really?!" Hart asked, jumping up and down with excitement. He had always wanted to go to school because he wanted to follow his brother's footsteps. And after finding out that Kite attended Heartland Middle school when he was twelve, his enthusiasm for schoolwork only increased. Kite, however, was not as eager to hear the news. "Are we really going to school?"

Faker laughed at his youngest son's happiness. "That's right," he said.

"Yatta!" Hart screamed, jumping into the air, failing to notice Kite's face as he did so.

"He's so happy," Kite thought. "Maybe he won't notice and ask."

At that point, Hart stopped jumping. "Wait a minute. Why does Kite have to take an entrance exam too? I thought he's still in high school."

Kite and Dr. Faker froze. They were definitely father and son. The expressions on their faces were completely identical. Dumbfounded fear. Faker turned to his oldest son, who was rubbing the back of his blonde head with a gloved hand. "Kite," Faker said uneasily.

Kite looked back at his father. "I never got around to telling him," he said with as much uneasiness as his father.

"Never got around to telling me what?" Hart asked obliviously.

Kite had gone to school, that was true. He graduated from middle school when he was 12, but had to drop out of high school when he was 13 so he could focus all his time on his dueling so he could help Hart. Five years later, and he still didn't get around to telling Hart.

Apparently, Hart connected the dots thanks to the silence that hung over his dad and brother. "Kite," Hart said, giving his brother a Give-Me-An-Explanation kind of glare. That was enough to scare the truth out of his brother.

"I kinda dropped out of school a few years ago," Kite said.

"Kite!" Hart yelled, sending a shiver up his brother's spine. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were sick, Hart," Kite said, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders. He silently hoped that his hands would stop shaking. He had wanted to keep the whole school thing a secret from his brother, at least until he got a job as his father's assistant like Hart had wanted to see. That way, he could break it to him softly if he ever brought it up, which he silently hoped he wouldn't.

Hart didn't want to hear excuses. "Why didn't you tell me when I got better?!" he said.

Again, Kite didn't know how to answer properly. "I didn't want you to worry. That's all, Hart."

"That's all?!" Hart asked, a scowl crossing his soft face. "Why is it you don't want me to worry about you?! You worried about me when I was sick. And yet when I want to worry about you, you simply say you're fine and give me a stupid grin. Just like when you were the one getting sick. Remember? 'I just tripped. What a klutz.'" He paused for breath and looked at his brother's face. He groaned and started walking away. "Trust me a little more, Kite!"

The only thing that followed those last few words was the slamming of the door to the room that the brother's were currently sharing. Hart was definitely angry. No doubt about that. He probably had his mother's temper. Kite remembered she always hated being left out of the loop when it came to something important.

Kite fell to the chair closest to him. Then he rested his head on his hands. Great. If anything, the reason he didn't want to tell Hart that he dropped out of school wasn't because he didn't want him to worry about him. It was because he was embarrassed about it. Every time he thought about school, he would wonder how Hart would feel if he found that the very brother he wanted to follow didn't make it through school. And because he didn't talk about his academic problems, Faker, of course, didn't know about it.

"I'm sorry, Kite," Dr. Faker finally said.

"It's okay," Kite said, refusing to look at his father.

Kite and Faker were having a very difficult time talking with one another. Scratch that, they had been **having** a hard time getting into father-son chats for the last six years. To be more precise, since Hart got sick and Kite had to be a father-figure for the young boy. Kite rarely smiled at Faker anymore, but Faker knew that he didn't have much right to ask Kite for something that big. He was just glad to hear him call him "Dad" again.

Silence loomed over the two. Kite was silently waiting for Orbital 7 to show up and stutter something incomprehensible while Faker was waiting for something to burn in the kitchen so he would have an excuse to run out of the dining room. Unfortunately for the two of them, Orbital was currently grocery shopping or something and there was nothing in the kitchen to burn. Not even a pan and even Faker can't burn a pan. Finally, Kite cracked and left the room. He was still having a difficult time staying in one room with his father. Not that Faker failed to understand why. In fact, it made perfect sense.

Kite was standing before their bedroom. He had been intending to go in and explain everything to Hart, but the instant he reached the door, he suddenly felt like chickening out. This wasn't like a duel, where he could be honest or blunt. This was his little brother. The brother who looked up to him. The brother who helped him when he needed it and worried about him when he didn't want him to. And it was also the brother who was angry at him. Very angry at him. Taking a very deep breath, he opened the door quietly. "Hey, Hart?" he asked softly. "Can I come in?"

He opened the door a little more and saw a dark blue head pulling a shirt over its hair. The instant he realized what that shirt was, Kite opened the door all the way and looked at his little brother with his mouth agape. "Oh, hey, Kite," Hart said. "What's the matter?"

Kite was resisting the urge to laugh. It wasn't just any shirt he was wearing. Hart was wearing Kite's old Heartland Middle School uniform from his senior year. It was a little small on Hart, mainly because Kite's a naturally small kid. "Where did you find that?" Kite finally asked, hoping that Hart didn't hear the chuckles in his voice.

"Oh, you mean the shirt?" Hart said, tugging on the shirt to look at it. "I found it in the back of the closet. In the box where I found your yearbook." Hart then reached into the closest and pulled out the box in question.

Kite was amazed that that box was intact. It was about as big as a shoe-box and had collected a large amount of dust throughout the years. It stored all his memories of middle school, which was mainly his uniform, year book, and a framed picture of Kite and his family on Parents Day. The only time when Kite actually smiled in the school building. Faker had even showed up wearing decent clothing, not the lab coat he came home in so often. "So, Kite," Hart said, catching Kite's attention that was about to fly out the window.

"Yeah, Hart?" Kite asked, fully prepared for a school question.

"Do you think I'm gonna look okay when I go to school?" Not the question Kite had prepared himself for, but he answered nonetheless.

"I'm sure you'll look great, Hart," was his answer. He then gave Hart a great big hug. "Probably even better than how I looked."

"Really?" Hart asked, taking a good look at the younger Kite in the picture.

He was a little smaller than Hart was now and was wearing a long sleeved shirt underneath his uniform. Kite gave Hart a nod to show he was dead serious about what he said. So Hart smiled and hugged the picture to his chest. "Hey, Kite," Hart said. "Do you think you could tell me about your Parents Day?"

Kite suddenly felt the temperature drop. **That **was the question he didn't want to hear. "Well," Kite began.

He didn't know whether or not he wanted to get into that kind of story. But Hart's puppy dog eyes made it impossible to resist. They sat on opposite sides of the room, both with bright smiles, as Kite began.

**D.T.B: Kite's past will be revealed next chapter. Yay! The calm before the storm!**

**Kite: What's that supposed to mean?**

**D.T.B: Never mind. Let's just enjoy the next chapter. You have a story to tell your brother anyway.**

**Kite: Hold up a minute!**


	2. Kite's Parents Day

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**(I just wanna say I will be updating weekly. Please enjoy and review.)**

**Chapter 2**

**Kite's Parents Day**

"Hey, Kite," a young boy asked.

Twelve year old Kite was stuffing his text books in his book bag. When he heard the boy's voice, he turned with a Hart-like innocence on his face. "What's up, Clyde?" he asked.

It was rare that Clyde of all kids, the teacher's pet, would run up to Kite, the antisocial prodigy as many preferred to call him. "I was just wondering, are your folks coming to Parents Day tomorrow?"

Kite froze. He had completely forgotten about Parents Day. The day your parents come and see how your day goes. Some kids do better on that day because they want to impress their parents. Other kids flunk stuff they're normally good at because of the stress that follows with having your parents eyes watching you. "I dunno," Kite answered truthfully. Because of his lack of time for his sons, Faker made it very difficult for Kite to tell him stuff about anything. That included Parents Day. And because of that, Kite had forgotten all about it, forgetting to bring it up at dinner time or any other time that he was available for idle chatter. "I'll ask him today when I get home." He then added in a mumble, "If he's even there."

Lately, Dr. Faker had been staying at Heartland Tower, where he worked. He was usually gone for weeks at a time, and when he did show up, it was usually for a change of clothes. Both Hart and Kite wanted to go see him at the tower, but they never really could. The first time Kite tried it, he was sent straight home, and Hart was usually too sick to go anywhere, much less to the center of Heartland city.

"Well, just be sure to have someone there, buddy," Clyde said, giving Kite a pat on the back. A rather hard one in fact. "Either get someone to show up, or don't even bother coming."

Great. Clyde was not only the teacher's pet, when it came to stuff that actually didn't concern the teacher, he was the school bully. He never punched kids. No. He was too honorable for that. But he was, however, very good at making kids feel bad by poking at sensitive topics. That mainly included Kite's family. The ghost family. Not one person had seen the little brother he claimed to have nor did they hear of the father. And from the hints he had dropped, he had no mother who could attend Parents Day. But Kite never let Clyde's words, nor anybody's, hurt him. He had to stay strong for Hart and Faker. If he came home in tears, his father would ask what had happened and the last thing he needed was people worried about him when Hart was clearly the more troubled one and more deserving of Faker's worry.

"Oh, quit it, Clyde," a familiar and not at all welcomed voice said. A young girl wearing the senior girl's uniform, walked up to Clyde and Kite. She had dark red hair and a bright red stream flowing in her hair. She had dark grey eyes and a snappy temper. To most, she was known as Kari Tsukumo, aspiring reporter. But to Kite, who was the only kid in the class who would actually take notes, she was Kari Note-grabber. If he didn't hide his notes before she showed up, he would usually go home with less notes than he had started out with. "Who cares if a parent misses Parents Day?" she continued. "It's not as if it's mandatory or anything. Right, Birdy?"

"Birdy" was Kari's nickname for Kite. She knew how much it annoyed him, but she still called him it. She probably only did it because he never spoke up about what people said about him. Never even teared up when someone did something to him. It was when they mentioned his brother or badmouthed his father that he got angry.

Kite ignored her nickname again. Instead, he finished packing his bag and started for the door. "True," he said. "It's not mandatory. Our parents don't have to come if they don't want to. Oh, and Kari, you can't borrow my notes." Kari then groaned. "Sorry, but you'll have to impress your parents without my help." With that, he made good on his escape, leaving a very angry girl in his wake.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kite got on his skateboard and started for home. For the small villa surrounded by grass and trees and had an excellent view of the mountainside. It was almost always sunny there, giving both Kite and Hart a great area to play when Hart felt well enough to do so. But Kite's mind wasn't on the beauty of the day or the chance he and Hart would have to play that day. It was on Parents Day. Even if Faker was at the house, chances are Kite wouldn't be able to ask him if he could come to Parents Day. Having Faker go to something for him while leaving Hart alone with Orbital just didn't seem fair. After all, Hart needed more time with Faker than Kite did. Kite could handle stuff like that. Hart, on the other hand, he needed to spend time with their father. Kite had lost count of the times when Hart wanted to see their father before bed only to hear from Kite that Faker could not be there that night. But if Faker didn't show up for Parents Day, Clyde would make sure his day was downright terrible, and frankly, Kite wasn't sure if he could recover from something like that.

With his brain focused on Parents Day and whether or not he should bring it up to his father, he was knocked out of his stupor when he felt his skateboard get jolted upwards. He was knocked off his skateboard and landed on the ground in a heap. He forced himself up and shook his head. Then, without bothering to check and see if he had any injuries, he picked up his skateboard and walked up the rest of the way home, which, lucky for him, wasn't that far.

By the time he got to the door to his house, his ankle and wrist were throbbing in pain. His shoulder didn't feel so good either. He opened the door, hiding the pain with a big smile for his little brother, who was sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around his small body. "Hey, little guy, I'm home," Kite said.

Hart looked over to Kite, a hazy expression written all over his face. He was still half-asleep. "Oh, hey, Kite," Hart said, a smile just as big on his own face. "How was school?"

Kite put his school bag down and hid the disappointment on his face. He didn't want Hart to know about Parents Day. He'd beg Faker to go. And he couldn't have that. "It was okay," Kite said. He paused before taking a deep breath. Hart knew what he was about to do and covered his ears. "Orbital 7!" Kite yelled. That little robot could be anywhere in the house, and Kite was in no mood to go scouring the house looking for him.

The robot, hand-made by Dr. Faker himself to keep an eye on the Tenjo brothers, sped right into the room. "M-Master Kite!" Orbital said. "I-I see you're back home from s-s-school."

"Dad's really got to take care of your stuttering problem," Kite muttered under his breath. "Is he in?"

Kite held his breath as he awaited the answer. "Indeed he is, Master K-K-Ki-ite," Orbital said.

Kite almost choked on his own breath. Was he actually that lucky to hear that his dad was actually home for a change? It had been a month since he last saw him. "I'll be right back," Kite said, pulling something out of his backpack as he made his way into Faker's study, knowing that's where he'd be.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kite stood in front of the study room, his small legs shaking despite his attempts to seem calm. He gulped before placing a shaky hand on the doorknob. Simply preparing to talk to his father was one thing. Actually talking to him was like climbing Mt. Everest. He opened the door a tad and whispered, "Dad, can I come in?"

Faker's familiar blonde head turned to see the owner of the voice in question. When he noticed Kite's green fringe, he waved to him, a simple hand motion that said, "Yes." Gulping again, Kite entered the study and leaned against the door, closing it in the process.

Faker's study was more like a miniature laboratory, with more scientific gear in that one study that there would normally be in a lab twice that size. Faker had made it very clear that the boys were not allowed in there when he was away, and it was easy to see why. If they broke anything, it would be coming out of their allowance, and Kite's allowance for a year wouldn't be enough to pay for anything in the study. Not even one of the books.

Faker turned around and faced his son, who was suddenly shaking nervously from head to toe, a hand concealing an invitation to Parents Day. "What's the matter, Kite?" Faker asked, his voice revealing his concern. "Is something wrong?"

"Get a grip, Kite!" Kite commanded himself. "Just ask him about his schedule tomorrow! It's easy!" Then he looked back up at his father, only to lose the courage he just gave himself. "Uh, Dad," he said slowly. He hoped he didn't sound too chicken, but he couldn't help himself.

"What's wrong, Kite?" Faker asked again.

Kite eased the tension in his shoulders. "Are you...?" he asked, only to slow down. "Are you...?" By this time, Faker was starting to worry about Kite. "What's your schedule for tomorrow?" He finally asked the question that could start up a conversation.

Or so he thought. "Why are you asking, Kite?" Faker asked.

That one question sent a shiver up young Kite's spine. "Uh," he began again. "Well...it would be good to know...how many people to cook for...you know?"

"Oh," Faker said, easing Kite's worries for a moment. "I'm sorry, Kite, but I'm going to be busy tomorrow, so I won't be coming home until the day after."

Kite could feel himself falling apart. So much for bringing up Parents Day. He didn't even know how to conceal his disappointment. But, luckily for him, he looked around and saw what Faker was currently doing. "In that case," Kite said, pausing slightly, "can I help you finish your work for right now so you can eat dinner with me and Hart tonight?"

Faker took one look at Kite's face and nodded. That was enough for Kite. If anything, Faker's gestures were more than enough to get the point across.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night at dinner, a small family of three sat at the dinner table. Orbital, while he could be considered a Tenjo, wasn't included as he was...well, a robot. It was physically impossible for him to eat anything that wasn't electricity or whatever it was that kept him going.

"So, Dad," Hart said eagerly, "how are things at work going? Are you almost done?"

"Getting there," Faker said, taking a sip of his drink. "Don't worry, I'll have some time with you two very soon."

Kite couldn't begin to show his happiness after hearing that. Even if it was a whole day, that made the difference for Hart as well as himself. He began to take a bite out of his food. "Kite," Faker said, gaining his son's attention quickly.

"Yes, Father?" Kite replied, hoping his father wouldn't ask about school.

"What happened to your wrist?" Faker asked, pointing down to his hand.

Kite was using his left hand to hold his fork. However, Kite is a righty. Unfortunately for Kite, it was his right wrist that he had hurt. He knew there was no talking his way out of it, so he showed his wrist to Faker, wincing as he looked at the wound. It wasn't just bruised. It was scraped badly, so much so, it hurt to move it. The same probably applied to his ankle, but he wasn't about to show Faker. "I fell off my skateboard," Kite said, admitting to the truth. "I wasn't paying attention and I hit a pothole. That's all."

"Ow, Kite," Hart said. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine," Kite replied, hoping that they wouldn't ask any more questions like, "Are you hurt anywhere else?" or "Why weren't you paying attention?" Those two questions would be the hardest for Kite to answer, as both would lead to Parents Day and he didn't want that.

Fortunately, neither question was brought up. "You should be fine," Faker said, examining his son's wrist carefully. "You should get it taken care of though. It's going to be stiff tomorrow."

Tomorrow. How he was starting to hate that word. Kite took his wrist away from his father and rubbed it. "Okay, Dad," he said. He didn't look at Faker as he continued to rub his wrist. He felt so ashamed and he didn't even know why.

"So, Kite, is there anything coming up in school that I might want to know about?" Faker asked.

Kite felt the temperature drop 100 degrees. He didn't want to lie, but he didn't want to hear his father tell him, "Sorry, but I can't attend." He stood up and grabbed his empty plate with his good hand. "I'm going to go do my homework now," Kite said.

He placed the plate on the counter, grabbed his school bag, and ran into his room. "Don't forget, Kite," Hart said. "It's your turn to do the dishes."

"I'll do them tonight, Hart," Faker said, giving his son a smile. "Something tells me Kite has a lot on his mind. Besides, the water would make his wrist sting."

Hart looked at his father. Then hugged him. "Thanks, Dad," he said.

"For what?" Faker asked curiously.

"For thinking of Kite," was Hart's immediate answer.

Kite ran into his room and locked it. Then he turned on his lights and looked at the invitation to Parents Day. It was an orange piece of paper that had a bunch of kids and their parents in the background. Big letters said oh so clearly, "Parents Day!Wednesday, June 12. You are invited."

Kite sighed as he read the invitation again. It had been a week since he had received it from the teacher, and had been told to give it to his father when he had the chance. And now he had just run from the only chance he had to give it to him until the day after tomorrow. After snorting at the invitation, he threw it on his desk, causing it to fall into his garbage can, and began to do his homework. But those words just kept going through his head, making it very difficult to concentrate. So he quickly abandoned his homework, which didn't have to be turned in until the end of the week anyway, and went to bed, careful to not sleep on his injured wrist, which he still had to take care of.

That day just wasn't going well.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kite awoke the next morning to a shocking discovery. He was going to be late for school! Forget taking care of his wrist. He didn't even have time to eat anything. Not that he planned eating in the first place. He ran out of his room while jumping on one foot. He was busy putting his school shoe on his injured foot while running, which in itself was not an easy task. "M-Master Kite," Orbital screamed as he saw Kite jumping like that.

"Sorry, Orbital," Kite said, turning his attention to the robot. "But I've gotta go. I'm late enough as it is. Keep an eye on Hart, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Kite then ran out of the house, swinging his bag over his good shoulder.

Unfortunately for him, his whole stunt in front of his room was witnessed by his brother, who was quite awake and was standing in his doorway. "Orbital," Hart said. "Is something wrong with Kite?"

Orbital turned around to face his young master. "I think he just o-overslept, Master Hart," he said. "I'm with your father in that he h-has a lot on his mind." For some reason, talking to Hart was easier than talking to Kite. Therefore, he had a tendency to stutter less.

Hart then walked into Kite's room. Kite had been acting strangely since he had come home the day before, and Hart was hungry for answers as to why. He walked up to his desk and saw a slightly wrinkled piece of paper in the garbage can. He pulled it out and found out that it was the invitation to Parents Day. He gasped as he read the date. "No wonder Kite was acting like that," Hart said. "Hey, Orbital, can you try to get Dad on the phone? It's really important."

"Right away, M-Master Hart," Orbital said, rushing into the living room to get Faker on the phone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kite was starting to think that maybe it would have been a better idea to stay home that day. By the time he jumped off his skateboard to start walking into the gate, his wrist was starting to annoy him and his leg was killing him. And landing on his injured foot after kicking up his skateboard was not helping in the least.

He took a good long look at the school. Wherever he looked, he saw an adult. A parent to be more specific. For some reason, seeing all these people made Kite want to cry, so he pushed his way through all the adults to make his way to the classroom, only to be greeted with more adults. "Great," Kite thought.

It was going to take a miracle to get him through the rest of his day. And that miracle had to have spiky blonde hair and had to be wearing a lab coat and goggles. But that was equivalent to wishful thinking. He sat down at his desk, happy to ease the pain in his ankle. But just as he was about to pull his text books out of his bag, Clyde appeared and slammed his hands against his desk, sending a jolt of lighting through Kite's shoulder. "So, where's your old man, Kite-o?" Clyde asked.

Kite sighed. And so the games begin. "He's not here," Kite answered, closing his eyes so as not to see the feigned look of surprise on Clyde's face. "He had work, so he couldn't come."

"Or you were just too chicken to tell him about it," Clyde suggested.

Yes, there was that too.

"Or maybe he doesn't exist," Clyde said in a whisper.

That did it. Kite jumped out of his seat and grabbed Clyde by the collar. "Don't...ever...say that about my family," he said. "My father is simply too busy doing something important, he doesn't have time for stupid stuff like this. Don't you dare say he doesn't exist."

"Whatever," Clyde said, unaffected by Kite's attitude. "That doesn't change the fact that he's not here now, does it?"

Kite's eyes widened. "All right, you two," their teacher, Mr. Kay, said, clapping his hands to get their attention. "Now, settle down over there. There's plenty of time for squabbles after class."

Kite let go of Clyde and sat back down in his chair. When he was certain Clyde wasn't looking, he started rubbing his wrist. It was just his luck that his right wrist was also the wrist he used for grabbing. Now his wrist hurt ten times as much.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

His day was just getting worse and worse. Not only was he surrounded by adults, P.E for that day was running. And that was the worst thing his leg needed at that point. However, he couldn't go up to the teachers and request a chance to be absent. He wouldn't be able to get over it if the kids found out about him being absent during his favorite lesson of the day. He silently wished that P.E that day could have been jumping instead of running. At least he would have killed his wrist instead of his leg.

When it was time for his class to go out for P.E, Kite found himself standing in front of a bunch of parents, all of them rooting for their kids. Yet another thing that made Kite want to cry. But of course, he couldn't. Or rather, he wouldn't. He fingered his left back pocket. It held a card that his father had given him. **Feelings Towards the Future.** Faker had given it to Kite when he was only six years old, and having it made Kite feel that his father was watching him from afar. He had to do his best now. He just had to, or he'd disappoint his father. If only his leg would get the stupid hint and stop throbbing, maybe he'd be able to do okay in P.E and get on with his day.

During the run, two parents, Kazuma and Mira Tsukumo were cheering their daughter on as she ran. Their little son, a boy with black and red hair identical to his father's, was sitting on his father's shoulders. "Hey, I see her," the little boy said, pointing towards Kari, his 14 year old sister.

"Good," Kazuma said. "Where is she?"

The boy pointed. "Right in front of that blonde kid," he said. Then he paused. "That's weird," he said.

"What is, Yuma?" Mira asked.

"That blonde boy is limping," Yuma said. "See?"

Kite was limping. That was true. His foot was starting to buckle with every step he took. Every step became total agony. He wanted the run to stop faster, but he knew as well as the next guy it would stop in another lap. Until then, they had to keep running. But Kite wasn't sure if he could take another lap.

And he was right. Kari, noticing his panting behind her, turned her head to see Kite with a face covered in sweat. This was unusual. He'd never sweat when it came to running in P.E. He loved it too much. "You feeling okay, Birdy?" she asked.

"I-I'm fine," Kite said. "Just leave me alone-"

His foot finally gave up under him, causing him to fall flat on his face. To add insult to injury, **Feelings Towards the Future **came flying out of his back pocket, landing an arm's length away from him. "Oh, no," he thought, reaching forward to grab his precious card before some kid stepped on it.

Unfortunately, Clyde picked it up before he did. "What's this?" Clyde asked to a wide-eyed Kite.

"Give me that back," Kite begged. "That's very important to me."

"Oh, what is it?" Clyde said. "A gift from your imaginary father?"

"He's not imaginary!" Kite said, his eyes beginning to water. "And it is a gift from him, so give it back!"

"Why should I?" Clyde said.

His answer came in the form of a bulky man taking the card from the unsuspecting boy. "It's not polite to take things from people," the man said. "It's a rule I teach all my children. Especially when it comes to _Duel Monsters_. Haven't your parents taught you that? Or are you simply too arrogant to care?"

Clyde was terrified of the man standing before him. So much so, in fact, that he screamed and made a run for it. With Kite falling down, the rest of P.E was pretty much canceled.

A little boy ran up to Kite as he started to push himself back up. "Hey, are feeling okay?" he said.

"Hey, what happened, Birdy?" Kari asked, running back to the blonde-haired boy.

"Birdy?" the little boy asked. "Why did you call him that? That's not nice."

"Hey, it just fits, alright?" Kari asked. "Besides, he doesn't mind."

"Don't call me 'Birdy'!" Kite screamed. He was starting to have enough.

Kari was taken aback. "Whoa," she went. "Kite, are you okay?"

"Maybe he just doesn't like that stupid nickname," the boy suggested.

"He's never complained about it before," Kari argued.

The pain in his foot, the fact that his father wasn't there (Though that was his fault.), Clyde trying to take his precious card, people over him asking if he was alright. It was all too much for Kite to take. He started to cry. "See? You've made him cry," the little boy said, pointing to Kite's face.

He was the only one to notice that Kite had started crying, something he stopped as soon as it was mentioned. "I'm not crying," he denied, wiping the tears away with his now dirt-stained hands.

"This boy," the man thought. "He looks kinda familiar." He walked up to Kite's leg and examined it. "You've twisted your ankle pretty badly," he informed him. "Did you get into an accident or something, kid?"

"Why does it matter to you?" Kite asked. He started to stand back up, only to meet the ground again due to the pain in his foot.

"Here, kid," the man said, sitting down, his back facing Kite.

Kite was unfamiliar with that gesture, but he knew what it meant. The man was offering Kite a piggy-back ride to get him to where he needed to go. "No, that's not necessary," Kite denied, trying to stand back up again. "I can walk on my own."

Again, he tried, and again, he failed. But this time, he landed on the man's broad back. The man then stood up, pulling Kite up with him. "It'll be easier on your foot if I carry you, kid," he said.

"You'll be fine," the little boy said. "My dad's a mountain climber."

Kite was surprised. "That's right. Name's Kazuma Tsukumo. What's yours, kid?"

Kite hesitated before he answered. "Kite," he answered. "Kite Tenjo."

"Tenjo?" Kazuma repeated, earning him a nod from the young boy on his back. "So I guess that makes you Dr. Faker's son, right?"

Kite jumped when he heard his father's name. "You know my father?" Kite asked.

"Only his reputation," Kazuma answered. "I've never met him in person. But he's not so reclusive that people would fail to remember the creator of Heartland."

Kite's face softened and turned red at the sound of his father's reputation. It was relieving to hear that his father was well known for something like that.

"Who's that over there?" Yuma asked, pointing forward. "Is that your dad?"

"He's here?!" Kite asked anxiously.

"There he is, Dad!" a familiar voice squealed.

Kite knew that voice. "Let me down! Let me down! Let me down!" he repeated several times. (When he was screaming this, he sounded like a high-pitched Hart. Totally adds to the funny.)

"Are you sure you can walk, Kite?" Kazuma asked. "Your leg is still pretty bad."

"I can handle it," Kite said. "Let me down!" He would die of embarrassment if Hart and Faker caught him sitting on a stranger's back.

Kazuma put Kite on his feet just as Faker and Hart showed themselves. Hart was wearing his usual outfit, consisting of a pair of shorts and a striped shirt. Faker, however, was wearing a short-sleeved shirt with a white collar and a pair of brown pants. Kite turned red when he looked at his father. For the last six months, the most casual thing he had seen him in was a lab coat. "H-Hi, Dad," Kite said, trying to look as normal as possible. "What are you two doing here?"

"I think the proper question, young man, would be why didn't you inform me that Parents Day was today?"

Kite's goose was cooked. He grinned awkwardly and rubbed his head. "You were busy," he said. "I didn't know how to tell you."

"You could have just shown him the invitation," Hart said, holding the orange paper up in the air.

"Where did you get that?" Kite asked quickly.

"You threw it away," Hart informed him.

"I should have grabbed that when I had the chance," Kite mumbled.

"Dr. Faker, I presume?" Kazuma asked, holding his hand out to Faker.

"I am," Faker said, accepting the handshake. "And you are?"

"Just your son's rescuer," Kazuma said, placing a hand on Kite's shoulder, lightly, so as not to embarrass the boy by making him fall down from the increase in weight. "You might want to take care of him. He's got a sprained ankle, and it looks like he bruised his shoulder and twisted his wrist."

Faker looked at Kite and Kazuma, wide-eyed. Meanwhile, Kite wanted to make a run for it. "The twisted wrist, I knew about," Faker said.

Kite wanted to sneak away. But his legs felt like lead and his foot felt chained. He could feel himself shrinking away. "Kite," Faker said slowly. "Do you have something you want to tell me?"

"Uh..." went Kite, trying to think of a way out of this. "I tripped?"

"We saw that, Kite," Hart said, suppressing a chuckle. "It was really funny too."

Think. Think. That was all that went through Kite's mind. "I couldn't take care of my wrist and pulled on Clyde's collar?" Faker's face clearly said that he was deadly serious and in no mood for Kite's games. Kite took a very long breath. "When I fell off my skateboard, I hurt my entire right side. I'm sorry."

Faker then sighed. Kite could feel his father's eyes burn into his head. "Why didn't you tell me when I asked about your wrist?" he asked calmly.

"I didn't want you to know," Kite said. "I didn't want you guys to worry about me."

"But isn't that what families do?" Yuma asked.

Kite didn't answer. "I'll be fine," Kite defended. "I just twisted it a bit."

"Is that why your keeping all your weight off of it?" Hart asked, pointing to his brother's elevated foot.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Kite denied, his face bright red as he took a step. He instantly regretted it as he fell down again, making himself look like a big idiot in front of his dad. His suppressed groans were enough to make his father worry as he ran over to him.

"Kite," Faker said, placing a large hand on his son's small shoulder. He noticed that Kite was trembling in pain. "What am I going to do with you?"

"M-Master K-Kite!" Orbital screamed. (Yes, he was there too.)

Kite was only turning redder. "Can this day get any more embarrassing?" he thought aloud.

Ten minutes later, the school nurse was bandaging up his ankle. It actually looked worse than he had thought it would be. His foot was purple and blue, his ankle was swollen, and it hurt to move it even a little. "He was right about one thing," the nurse said. "It isn't as bad as it looks. He just needs to stay off of it for a few days and he'll be fine." She turned her bespectacled eyes on Kite. "Same with the wrist, kid. Give it some time to heal. Got me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Kite said, rubbing his now bandaged wrist. He was still a little red in the face, but most of it had faded away.

"Oh, before I forget, Kite," Kazuma said, holding a card out to him. "You dropped this when you tripped."

Kite gasped. The card in his hand was **Feelings Towards the Future**. He nearly snatched it out of Kazuma's hand, but he remembered his manners at the last minute and took it thoughtfully. "Thank you," he said softly, squeezing his precious card into his chest.

"I thought you left that card in your room where it was safe," Faker pointed out.

Kite started turning red again. Another explanation he didn't want to get roped into. "Well," he began, keeping his eyes distant from his father. "I didn't think you were coming today. So I thought if I brought this with me, it would be as if you were cheering me on in spirit."

Faker started laughing. "Oh, Kite, what **am** I going to do with you?"

"You can get him home for one thing," Kazuma said. "The nurse said he'd need to rest, and he can do that better at home that against a tree."

"That's true," Faker agreed. "Are you ready to go home, Kite?"

"Uh," went Kite, earning a raised eyebrow from his father. "I left all my stuff in the classroom."

"Mean this stuff?" Yuma said, holding a large bag with a skateboard in the straps.

"I believe so," Faker said, gently taking the articles in question from Yuma's tiny hands. "Thank you, little boy." He turned back to Kite. "Are you ready now?"

Kite nodded. He was definitely his father's son if he was using gestures to get his point across.

Kite started pulling himself up against the tree. But just as he was all set to take a step forward, he saw his father in the same position Kazuma was in when he had tripped the first time. "Hop on, Kite," Faker said.

Kite turned red again. "I'm fine, Dad, really," Kite said, flabbergasted by his father's command. "I can walk."

"Kite," Hart argued, "you can't even limp properly with that leg. Come on."

"Why don't you ride on Dad's back, Hart?" Kite offered. "You're probably pretty tired too."

"No, I'm good. It's your foot that's hurt." Hart gave his answer with his big smile.

"You guys don't have to worry about me," Kite said. He was feeling very uncomfortable.

"Kite," Faker said, turning his head to look at his son. "I'm your father. It's my job to worry about both my sons." He then motioned for Kite to get on his back again. This time, after wincing from his foot, Kite accepted his father's back.

After standing up under his son's weight, he started for the Tenjo family car. Faker couldn't help but notice that his older boy was actually quite light for his age. "Now it's true, I do worry about Hart more often than I worry about you, but you need to inform me if something like this happens to you. An injured foot isn't something you should hide from me. If it got worse, how would I know about it?"

Kite didn't answer, rather, he buried his face in his father's shirt. Kazuma then started letting out a large and hearty laugh. "Well, now," he said, "**that's** quite a happy family." He walked over to Faker and held out a camera. "How'd you like to have a picture of the family?"

"Why?" Hart asked.

"Well," Kazuma began, "you're big brother's a pretty tough kid. He didn't let it show how upset he was that you two didn't show up." Kite wanted to shrink away when he heard that. It was true, he was refusing to let their absence hurt him, but he didn't think anybody would have seen that. Kazuma finished by talking to Faker. "He's definitely your boy, Dr. Faker. I simply think he deserves something to remind him of today."

Faker and Hart nodded. Kite wanted to nod as well, but he was starting to get tired. Faker placed Kite back on his feet, as he knew Kite didn't want to be in the picture on his father's back. Faker stood behind his two boys, both of whom were smiling really big smiles. Kite was keeping his weight off his foot, as it would ruin his smile if he was in pain. The picture was taken, followed by a thank-you picture of Kite's rescuer courtesy of Faker.

Faker and Kazuma then shook hands. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Faker," Kazuma said.

"You too," Faker replied. "I hope to work with you sometime."

"That might just happen, if you want to climb a mountain."

Just as Kazuma and family started to walk away, Kite limped forward and called out to them. "Thank you for helping me," he said, giving them a brief bow.

"Don't thank me," Kazuma said. "Thank my little boy. He's the one who noticed you were hurt."

"Well, I only pointed it out because my sister, Kari wouldn't have taken notice," Yuma said.

Kite's mouth was agape. "You mean to tell me Kari Note-Grabber is your sister?" Kite said, covering his mouth when he realized what he said.

Kari and Kite were both terribly embarrassed. It was clear that Kari's goose was cooked as well. And she was going to be coming to get Kite back first chance she got, as evident in the death glare she threw him prior to getting in the car. Hart simply laughed it off. "Okay, that's a pretty funny nickname," he said. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Long story," Kite said, wondering how he should write his will before Monday.

"A story that can be better told later, Kite," Faker said, opening the doors to the car. "Why don't we head home before you talk about it?"

Kite turned and smiled at his father. "Okay," he said, a brief tear visible on his face.

Then he limped into the car and started for home.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Oh, I remember that now," present Hart said, slamming his fist into his palm. "You fell asleep halfway home and Dad carried you into the house."

Kite chuckled lightly. "That's true," he admitted. "I woke up in my bed with my blanket on me."

"Yeah, that was one crazy day," Hart said. "Oh, yeah, did that Kari girl ever get you back for blurting out her reputation?"

"Yep," Kite said, his chin resting in his hand. "She glued my notebooks shut. How she got all that done, I'll never know."

"Okay, that's kinda funny and mean at the same time." Hart started thinking back, followed by a chuckle. "Do you think that little kid that pointed out your injury was Yuma?"

"I don't remember," Kite admitted. "It might have been though. Butting in is definitely his thing."

"He prefers to call it, 'Feeling the Flow,'" Hart said with a laugh. "I know, I'll ask him if he remembers tomorrow."

Kite sweatdropped. "Hart, we aren't going to school until next week."

"So?"

"Well, you can verify that with Dad," Kite said, turning towards the doorway. "You can come in now. You know that."

Then Faker appeared in the doorway. "When did you notice?"

"When you laughed after I mentioned that Kazuma guy pointing out my foot."

"So, Dad, can I go to the school tomorrow and ask Yuma about the story?"

"Sorry Hart, but no," Faker said simply.

"What?!" Hart whined.

"If you did go to the school to talk to Yuma, you'd eventually go all over the school and give Kite a heart attack and Orbital a short circuit."

"I don't ever do that," Hart whined.

"Yeah, you do," Kite said. "Remember when I had to duel to get you back?"

"I wasn't the reason you were freaking out. I was kidnapped, remember?!"

"That makes no difference, you little goof," Kite said, running over to his brother. He then grabbed his brother by the waist and proceeded to tickle him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that night, when Faker was sure Hart was asleep, he entered the room his boys were sharing to find Kite wearing the plaid pajamas that Faker had got him. To be honest, Kite wasn't sure if it was a peace offering or a fatherly gift, but he wore them nonetheless. Mainly because they were the only pair of pajamas Kite had. He had grown out of his other pairs while Hart was busy growing into them.

Faker entered the room to find Kite at the desk, as usual, sitting before the computer doing some online work. However, instead of focusing on the screen, Kite's head was resting on his hands. Faker advanced forward silently and found Kite sound asleep, breathing softly in and out. Kite's face had a youthful innocence in it when he was sleeping, as Faker found out upon looking at him. Five years of dueling, bottling his feelings up, remaining cold to others, and lack of smiles made no different when he was sleeping. Smiling, Faker turned off the work that Kite had been doing, revealing a picture of Hart on a swing with Kite kneeling beside him. Then Faker placed his coat over his son's shoulders and went to bed himself. "Good night, boys," he said before closing the door to the room.

He failed to hear something muttered by his oldest son.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**D.T.B: Yippee! Kite's whole Parent Day special is over! Man that was fun to do! Now, are there any questions about the chapter?**

**Hart: Yeah. Kite seemed really nervous when Dad and I showed up. Why's that?**

**D.T.B: He didn't want you guys to know that he hid Parents Day from you. Talk about humiliating if someone found out despite you doing your best.**

**Hart: So, what was Kite mumbling before Dad went to bed?**

**D.T.B: You'll find out later. Any other questions?**

**Kite: Why was I was wearing plaid pajamas?**

**D.T.B: Your dad got them for you. Besides, I thought plaid looked good on you.**

**Kite: Hey!**

**D.T.B: Bye! Gotta go! Kite's gonna kill me in a minute! See you next chapter!**


	3. Of School and Numbers

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**Chapter 3**

**Of School and Numbers**

A week later. Kite and Hart were preparing for their first day at their new schools. Hart was now wearing the Heartland Middle School uniform for freshman students. A white shirt with a red line going across the collar and sleeves. He stared at himself in the mirror for half an hour before Kite pulled him away from it. "Hey, Hart, you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Hart said, turning to face his brother. "Whoa, Kite, you look awesome!"

Kite's Heartland High School uniform also consisted of colors. As a senior student, he was wearing a grey shirt under a blue jacket. Grey pants with blue stripes going up the side completed the uniform along with his everyday shoes. His deck was still resting on his hip, where it had always been before he went anywhere. "You really think so?" Kite asked, giving himself a curious look. Apparently he didn't think that the uniform was "him."

"Yeah, Kite," Hart said. "You look great."

Kite smiled and gave his brother a hug. "Oh, yeah," he said, reaching behind him. He then pulled an old skateboard out from behind him. "I thought you might like this old guy. He really helps when you need to go somewhere."

Hart eyed the skateboard before taking it in his small hands. "Are you sure?" Hart asked.

"Hey, I can't fit on that old guy anymore," Kite said. "Besides, Orbital can be counted as a motorcycle."

Hart laughed. "Okay, then." He gave his brother a big hug. "Thanks, Big Brother."

Kite didn't have to say, "You're welcome." His hug said it all.

At that point, Faker appeared in the doorway. "Are you two ready?" he asked.

His sons released each other from their hug and stood up, allowing their father to take a good long look at them. For a moment, Faker thought back to when Kite first got his high school uniform at the age of twelve in a half. Where did the time go? "Those uniforms look good on the both of you," he choked.

Hart laughed as he jumped up and down while Kite placed a hand on his hip. He then reached down and grabbed their bags. "I guess we'll see you later then, Dad," Kite said, hesitating a bit on the "Dad." Again, he was having difficulty talking to his father.

Faker nodded as he watched his sons leave with Orbital in tow. Orbital had to go. After all, he was Kite's motorcycle.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Heartland Middle School. It was greeted with the familiar sound of Yuma's fast feet and his screams of being late. "Aw, man. Aw, man. Aw, man," he said repeatedly, never even pausing for breath.

Astral remained floating behind him at a fair pace. "Honestly, Yuma," the blue Astral being said. "You really must learn that when your clock makes noise, it is intended to awaken you. It is not meant for target practice with your shoe."

"I know that," Yuma said. "But do you realize how difficult it is to break a habit?"

"Easier than breaking your clock, I would imagine," Astral replied, floating over the gasping boy as he stopped in front of the school.

A little laugh rang out through the air. "That sounds like you, Yuma," a little giggling voice said.

Yuma instantly stopped gasping and turned around. "Hart! Kite!" he exclaimed. Kite and Hart were indeed standing before him. "How's it going?" He then noticed their choice of wear. "But what are you guys wearing?"

Yuma had yet to be informed of Hart and Kite attending schools. "M-Master Kite and M-Master Hart are g-g-going to school," Orbital said.

"What?" Yuma asked. "Is that true?"

"Yep," Hart said with a grin. "I'm in class...," he pulled the paper out of his pocket and read it, "1-D."

"Hey, that's my class," Yuma said. "That is so cool."

"Well, at least I can ease my worries a little," Kite said.

"But what about Kite?" Yuma asked, pointing to the teen in question. "I always pictured him as a delinquent who skipped a lot."

Kite tensed up after hearing that. Hart simply laughed his head off. "Kite didn't skip classes," he laughed. "He dropped out."

Kite froze. Number one school issue: Kite was easily embarrassed about school. "Ouch," Yuma said. "So, where are you attending now, Kite?"

"Over there," Kite said, pointing to Heartland High. "It's actually where I used to go, so it makes sense."

"It is also close to this school, allowing Kite to get to Hart quickly if something were to happen to him," Astral said.

"Well, Hart, I'll see you later, okay?" Kite said, bending down to hug his brother.

"Okay, see you at lunch," Hart said, waving goodbye to his brother as he walked away.

"Boy, he didn't seem too happy," Yuma said. "Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut?"

"Observation number 23: It would appear that Kite doesn't enjoy reminiscing about school, nor does he like talking about it," Astral observed.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kite entered his classroom and took his seat. He was fortunate so far that very few people turned around to look at the new kid. But just as he sat down, he was greeted by one of the students. "You've got to be kidding me," he said. "You of all people, in this classroom of all classrooms?"

Kite looked at the boy. He was his age with brown hair and green eyes. He had a bucktooth, but he didn't seemed bothered with this. But despite these unique characteristics, Kite had to admit that he didn't recognize the boy in question. "Who're you?" Kite asked.

"Ow," the boy said, covering his heart with his hand as if he'd just been badly hurt. "After all these years, you don't remember me? I was the teacher's pet in middle school? Remember now?"

Ring, ring. Kite got it. "Oh, it's you Clyde," he said, turning to his text book. "What's up with you?"

"I was just about to ask you that, Kite," Clyde said. "I haven't seen you since you dropped out. What brought you back in? Don't tell me it was that imaginary father of yours again?"

"Okay, I won't," Kite said sarcastically. "It was my real father."

"Oh, your real father," Clyde said. Then he noticed Kite's deck. "What's that? Something to hold that pretty card of yours?"

"No," Kite said, knowing fully well what he was referring to. "It's to hold my deck." He turned and looked at Clyde. "I duel now."

"Oh, you do?" Clyde said, holding up a deck of his own. "What a coincidence. So do I! How about a match after class?"

Kite took one long look at him and shook his head. "You'd be a waste of my time," Kite said.

"I would not," Clyde denied. "Come on, just one duel before class starts."

"Why should I?" Kite asked, reaching for his laptop that he required for class.

"You duel, and I won't tell anybody about you using an illegal mode of transportation to get to class."

"I don't have an illegal mode of transportation," Kite answered.

"School rules say you are allowed to have a motorcycle or smaller to get you to school. Larger vehicles, such as cars and **robots** are not allowed in the premises." He heavily stressed "robots."

Kite threw him a glare. "Still a bully, after all this time?" Kite asked, standing up. "Fine. I'll duel you."

"Great," Clyde said, reaching for his deck.

Kite was annoyed now. Some things never change. Insult him, he's fine. Insult or threaten his family, and he goes totally ballistic. And Orbital can now be counted as family seeing as how he was still worried about Kite's health. And after all, isn't that what families are supposed to do?

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

*In the final turn of the Duel. *

(Clyde controls Basic Insect in Defense Mode. [500 ATK, 700 DEF.] He has one facedown and 1000 lifepoints. Kite controls Photon Leo. [2100 ATK, 1100 DEF.] He has no facedowns and 2900 lifepoints.)

"I summon Photon Cerberus," Kite yelled, bringing Photon Cerberus to the field.

Photon Cerberus threw his three heads into the air and roared.

[1300 ATK, 600 DEF.]

"How pathetic," Kite said. "You challenge me to a duel, and you're the one who gets beat." He held his hand out and pointed to Basic Insect. "Go Photon Cerberus. Destroy Basic Insect.

Photon Cerberus attacked, destroying Basic Insect with a large snap of its middle jaw. "Now, Photon Leo, attack him directly."

"Not today, Kite," Clyde exclaimed, revealing his facedown. "Go Negate Attack."

"Sorry, Clyde," Kite said sarcastically. "But when Photon Cerberus is summoned to the field, you can't activate any and all facedown cards."

"What?" Clyde asked.

"Negate Attack doesn't activate and Photon Leo's attack gets through!"

Photon Leo then slashed his razor claws against Clyde's uniform.

[Lifepoints down from 1000 to 0]

Kit's name and picture flashed overhead along with the word, WINNER. Vision link was canceled as Kite removed his duel gazer. He had purchased one so he could duel without Photon Transformation. Orbital had been really starting to get on his case about his health recently, so he required a mechanical Duel Gazer instead of his Duel Gazer Tattoo. His mechanical one was nearly identical to his tattoo with the exception of the white section that hung over his ear. "I win," Kite said. "I expect you to remain good on your promise, Clyde. Keep your trap shut about Orbital." He then walked back to his seat.

*Lunchtime at Heartland Middle School. *

"So, Hart," Yuma said, "how are you liking middle school?"

"Love it," Hart said, taking a bite out of his meal. (Hand-made by Faker, not to mention. Not exactly the most appetizing in appearance.) "It's much better than Kite had made it sound."

"What are you talking about, Hart?" Kite asked as he advanced towards Yuma and company.

"Hey, Kite, what are you doing here? Why aren't you eating lunch with your buddies over in the high school?" Yuma asked, causing the temperature to drop a degree or two.

"Because they're over here," Kite replied. "Do you happen to have a problem with that?"

"Huh? What do you mean they're over here?" Yuma asked, giving the area a quick look. (He is a bit of a goof.)

Astral sighed. "I believe Kite is referring to his friendship to you and everyone else, Yuma," he said. "I do not think he has any friends over in his school yet."

"What?" Hart whined. "Is that true, Kite?"

Kite rubbed his head. "Well, I've met up with a familiar face, if that's what you mean."

"Really?" Hart asked, jumping up and down. "Is it that same girl who took your notes in middle school? Kari Note-Grabber or whatever?"

Yuma started laughing his head off. "I haven't heard Kari get called that in ages," he said, holding his sides and kicking his legs up and down. "That's exactly what this blond kid called her when she was in middle school. It was downright hilarious."

"Oh," Hart said sneakily. "How'd you know that?" He placed his hands under his chin and listened carefully.

Yuma stopped laughing and cleared his throat. "Well, it was Kari's Parents Day. My family went to go cheer her on and one of her buddies in her class, a blond kid, hurt his foot. So my dad gave him a hand. Right before we left for home, he said thanks to Dad for helping him. And when he found out that Kari was my sister, he said, 'You mean to tell me Kari Note-Grabber is your sister?'" Kite froze. (They both remembered that day, yet didn't remember the name of the opposing kid.) "It was so funny. When we got home, she had to explain how she'd been snatching the kid's notes for the last couple of semesters. But all it took was one lecture from Mom and Dad and she never brought another one of his notes into the house. Though on Monday after school, she did bring home an empty bottle of glue. Never really explained that one."

Hart snickered. Kite remained silent. Talk about embarrassing. Finally, Hart started laughing. "That's so funny, Kite," he said. "He totally forgot about it too."

"What?" Yuma asked.

"Kite was that blond kid," Hart said, laughing and holding his sides as tears streamed down his face.

"Uh, Hart," Kite said, scratching his face, "could you stop laughing please? It's a little embarrassing."

"I can't help it," Hart said, laughing even harder still.

"Who's that laughing I'm hearing?" someone asked.

Both Hart and Kite turned around. Kite thought that he was dreaming or something.

Chris Arclight was standing in front of them. His hair had been cut a bit and he was now wearing it in a familiar braid that hung over his shoulder. He was wearing a white shirt with a blue jacket and a pair of light grey pants and shoes. In his hand was a couple of textbooks. "Kite, Hart," he said. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Chris," Kite said slowly. He didn't know how else to say it.

"Chris, you're back," Hart said, wrapping his arms around Chris' lower body. (He's a little too short to do anything more.)

"What are you doing here, Chris?" Kite asked. More than anything, Kite was overjoyed to see his mentor again. The man who had acted like a big brother to him until he found out that Faker was his father.

"I work here," Chris answered. "I'm a dueling teacher."

That made perfect sense. Chris was a great dueling teacher. Any school would be lucky to have him. "That's great," Kite said. The smile on his face, though nobody saw it with the exception of Chris, was very genuine.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kite and Hart returned home after school with no problems other than an overly concerned Orbital 7 lecturing Kite on his driving skills. A single glare from Kite quickly silenced him though. The brothers found themselves in front of Heartland Tower and got off of Orbital 7. "Thanks for the lift, Orbital," Hart said, making his way to the tower's stairs.

"No problem, M-Master Hart," Orbital replied, returning to his smaller, robot form.

Kite and Orbital didn't say anything to each other. Kite didn't tell anybody about the duel between him and Clyde for Orbital and frankly, he didn't want to tell anybody. If Orbital found out about it, he'd freak out all over again, and listening to Orbital chatter like that was starting to get on his nerves.

They opened the doors to the tower and walked inside. "Dad," Hart exclaimed. "We're home!"

"Oh," Faker said, poking his head out of the kitchen. "Welcome home, boys."

Honestly, Faker was overdoing it a bit on the whole Dad-thing. He was wearing a white apron and had a partially melted spatula in his hand. It goes without saying that while Faker possesses some adequate cooking skills, he is terrible in the kitchen. All Kite had to do was go into the kitchen and see the mess that Faker had made to see that much.

Kite rubbed his head slowly. "Uh, Father," he said, "nothing against you, but you're more of a scientist than a cook. I can handle food no problem. How about you go clean yourself up?"

He may have sounded like a father talking to his son, and maybe he intended that way, but he was also trying to get his father out of the kitchen before he dared to start mumbling under his breath. Faker couldn't apologize. He knew Kite didn't want to hear it. So he said, "Alright, Kite. I'll be in my lab. Call me if something comes up." Kite nodded. Yep. He's his father's son.

As soon as Faker left the kitchen, Kite took off his school jacket and rolled up his sleeves. "Need some help, Kite?" Hart asked, poking his head in to see the mess that Faker had made of the kitchen. Even Hart couldn't make a mess that badly, and he's an amateur. Hart had to cringe at the sight.

Kite smiled a little bit, his hardened gaze softening. "Sure, Hart," he said. He didn't have the courage to deny his brother nor did he have the desire to argue with Hart for an hour. "Why don't you go and get the table taken care of? I'll start with the dishes."

"Okay," Hart said, placing an apron on over his uniform to prevent it from getting stained. Kite had to chuckle. The apron was too big for Hart.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After about an hour of cleaning, scrubbing the kitchen, falling down, cracking dishes, and catching Hart before he landed on anything painful, the boys were pleased to say it was inhabitable again. Hart took off his apron and sighed. When he put it on, it was white. Now it was blue, purple, red, yellow, and some other color that he couldn't recognize. Kite, however, was sporting water all over the front of his shirt. Comes with having a brother who was wearing something intended for adults.

Kite looked down at his shirt. "I'm going to change my shirt, then I'll get some dinner started," he said. "Okay, Hart?"

"Right," Hart said. "I'm going to tell Dad that the kitchen is back to normal."

"Almost back to normal," Kite said. "You might want to warn him about the drop in dishes."

Hart chuckled awkwardly. "Right," he said. Then he ran to the lab that Faker and Kite shared.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hart got into the elevator that led to the basement. In all of Heartland Tower, which was still in the process of rebuilding, there was currently only one lab. That meant that Faker and Kite had to share it until Faker's laboratory was rebuilt. And because of Kite's inability to stay in one room with Faker alone for longer than five minutes, Kite and Faker took turns using the lab. Monday was Faker's turn. Then Tuesday was Kite's turn. And so on.

The door opened up to reveal Faker working on his computer. (Heavy stress on his.) Let me explain a little bit. When I say share the lab, I mean the room, not the equipment. Sure, most of the equipment was used by both men, but Kite had his computer and password while Faker had his own computer and password. Kite had suggested that mainly because he still hadn't fully trusted Faker. So he put a password on his computer so Faker couldn't get in and requested that Faker did the same on his own computer. Not that it made much difference. They both had the same password. Hart.

"Hey, Dad," Hart said, waving his hand to his father. "We got the kitchen taken care of."

"Good to hear, Hart," Faker said, turning to his son to speak to his face. "What's happening up there now?"

"Kite getting changed," Hart said. "He fell into the dish water a lot. But when he's dry again, he's going to get dinner started." Faker remained silent and smiled. "But I broke a few of the plates, so there's a drop in dishes. Just a heads-up."

"Alright, Hart," Faker said. "I'll be coming up soon."

"Want me to call you for dinner?" Hart asked, prior to waving a hand over his father's face to be sure whether or not he was conscious. "Dad?"

"I'm fine," Faker said. "And you don't have to call me for dinner. I'll come up later."

"Do you wanna hear something weird?" Hart asked. He had his father's attention. "Whenever you're in the living room and I ask Kite to do something in the living room with me, he says exactly what you just said. Why aren't you two ever in the same room at the same time?"

Faker hesitated before speaking. "I put Kite through a great amount of difficulty. And unlike you, he didn't forgive me that easily. It's hard for him to stay near me. It makes him remember what I did and he can't take that."

"Dad," Hart whined. "If all you guys do is avoid each other's company, you'll never get over it. You have to push through it together. That's the reason I'm here now, right?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Faker thought about what his son said and decided to take his advice. So when Hart called for dinner, Faker came up and joined them in the living room where Kite had chosen to set it up. Kite was wearing his usual blackish-grey outfit with purple shoulders.

One look and Kite looked ready to leave the room for whatever excuse might come out of his mouth, but Hart stood up and grabbed his arm. "Can't we have one dinner as a family?" he asked, earning him a wide-eyed expression from both his brother and father. "The two of you have been keeping away from each other ever since this place blew up. Come on. Just one dinner without icy glares, excuses, or awkward spacing. Please."

Kite and Faker were both surprised. They couldn't even think of hurting Hart after he worked so hard to make sure they stayed put. So they didn't move to leave. They moved to sit down at the table in the living room. Five minutes of soft chewing before Hart couldn't take the silence. "Hey, Dad, what's that in your pocket?" he asked, looking at the bulging pocket of his father's lab coat.

Faker looked down at it and pulled it out. "Oh, that's right," he said, handing Hart a small package. "It's a little something for you, Hart. Something to remind you about your first day at school."

"Really?" Hart asked, taking the present out of his father's large hand.

He opened it up slowly. It was a dueling deck of his very own. Hart was awestruck. It was a Light-attributed deck filled with small monsters with high defense points and larger monsters with high attack points. The most powerful one was placed at the front for Hart to see. An Xyz monster called **Thunder End Dragon**. A light attributed dragon at 3000 attack points. He could only say one thing. "Thank you."

Kite had to smile. It became a family tradition to give something to the Tenjo boy when he started his first day in school. When Kite had entered school the first time, Faker had given him **Feelings Towards the Future.** Just one little card, but it was more than enough to hold all of Faker's feelings for the little boy. To this day, even though Kite had hated his father at the time, he still chose to hang onto the card. It was holding his feelings too. Feelings of hope for his family's future.

Hart started looking at the cards in his deck, his eyes growing wider with each card. "They're beautiful," Hart said.

"So that's why Faker asked me about Hart's favorite cards," Kite thought. A few days ago, Faker had asked Kite about Hart and his likes and dislikes in cards. It was probably the only conversation they had that ended without one of them being left in an awkward silence.

"Hey, that's weird," Hart said. "What's this?"

Kite's eyes widened. Hart was holding a blank card, the card seeping with a dark aura. "Hart! Put that thing down now!" Kite said, getting out of his chair and swiping the card from his brother's hand and throwing it on the ground.

Faker stood up as quickly as Kite did. "Is that a blank Number?" he asked.

Kite was panting softly. Hart more so. "Yeah," Kite said, walking up to the Number slowly. "Go, Photon Transformation."

"Master Kite!" Orbital screamed as Kite's attire went from blackish-grey to white.

Kite picked up the blank Number card and opened the front door. Now might be a proper time to mention that Kite always did have a good arm. Before Hart was born, he and Faker often played catch or baseball. He was a little rusty, but that didn't stop Kite from sending the blank Number card flying into the water under the bridge near the tower. (Maybe there isn't one, but I don't care. There's one now.)

Kite closed the door as his Photon Transformation wore off. A familiar throbbing went through his body and he had to lean against the door for support. "Master Kite!" Orbital screamed, running towards his master.

"Big brother!" Hart yelled, his cards held tightly in between his fingers.

"Kite, are you feeling alright?" Faker asked.

Kite looked at them all. His eyes showed that his body was tired from using the Photon Transformation so often. The sweat on his face, he could pass off as worry, but his eyes, he couldn't do anything to hide. So he lowered his head. "I'll be fine," he said. "Just a little tired, that's all."

"How did that Number get in Hart's deck?" Faker thought. "I checked that deck twice before I wrapped it. And that Number was not present."

"It's okay, Father," Kite said softly. "When a Number wants to possess someone, they have a tendency to appear out of thin air."

"Will you be alright, Kite?" Hart asked, placing his hand on his brother's shoulder. "You don't look so good."

"M-Master Kite," Orbital said worriedly. "I told you that any further attempts at Ph-Photon Transformation would start to destroy your h-h-health."

"I don't need you telling me that, Orbital," Kite said, giving Orbital another glare to shut him up. "It was either Photon Transformation or watch Hart suffer. What would you have me do?"

"Kite, you're tired," Hart reported. "Let's get you to bed. I'll bring you your food."

"No, Hart. I'm fine," Kite denied.

"N-No you're not, Master Kite!" Orbital screamed. "I've just completed a quick scan of your body. You should be off your feet and resting."

Kite was about to argue again, but Faker intervened, saying, "Kite, please get some rest. You can't protect Hart if you're too tired to protect yourself."

That had to be the most fatherly thing Faker ever said. Kite finally relented and allowed Hart to help him to the bedroom.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

*Meanwhile, in the Barian World. *

"Looks like little Kite took the bait," Vector said, standing beside Number 96. The two of them were looking through a Baria crystal and saw Kite sleeping in his bed.

Number 96 gave a little laugh. "Yes," he said, his voice booming in the wide room. "Kite wouldn't let his little brother get hurt in any way. Too bad we forgot to tell him that that particular Number would have no influence on his brother whatsoever."

"Even if he did know, it would have made no difference," Vector replied. "He still would have protected him. Now he's slowly being infected by his own nightmare."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

*Back in the Tenjo brothers' bedroom. *

Hart was looking at his brother. He had forced his brother to get into his pajamas and lay down in bed. Then Hart had given him some food, which he hardly ate. Faker was worried, but he didn't let it show. But he had locked himself in the lab to figure things out and had requested that Hart stay with Kite, something Hart readily did.

But even Hart can't stay awake a whole night after a long day. He needed his sleep, and he got it involuntarily. Of all the times to pick your bed to sit on while watching your brother. About an hour after Hart fell asleep, Kite started to toss and turn. He was living in a nightmare. A nightmare with a devil in a green suit, ridiculous hat and an overly fluffy collar. Kite covered his head with his hand, a bright green 99 flashing on his right hand.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**D.T.B: Okay, it's not exactly rocket science, but that Number is coming back. So, any questions?**

**Hart: Is Kite gonna be okay?**

**D.T.B: *Hugging Hart * Oh, you're such a good brother, worrying about your brother like that. And yes, he will be okay...eventually. Can't say he's going to be fine next chapter or the chapter after that.**

**Kite: Great. Why didn't my Photon Transformation keep the Number from infecting me?**

**D.T.B: Dude, if your Photon Transformation solved everything, there'd be no point to this fanfic. Okay? Final question!**

**Clyde: Why did I have such a weak monster on my field during my duel?**

**D.T.B: I was not about to give you a strong monster and turn a simple turn into an entire duel. Don't worry, you'll show up again. And you'll actually be Kite's friend. **

**Clyde and Kite: No way!**

**D.T.B: Bye! See you next chapter! Gotta run for my life!**


	4. Sickness

**Chapter 4**

**Sickness**

Kite didn't know what happened. The next morning, he simply woke up with every bone and muscle in his body screaming in pain. His forehead burned like coals and his throat was beyond sore. His breathing was ragged as noticed by Hart. "Oh, Kite," he said, shooting his head up from his pillow. "I fell asleep and I was supposed to keep an eye on-" Then he noticed his brother's breathing. "Kite, what's wrong?"

Kite didn't answer. His larynx felt torn to shreds. Like he'd been screaming in his sleep the whole night long. "Orbital!" Hart screamed, jumping out of bed to go get the robot. "Orbital, you stupid machine, where the heck are you?!"

Hart found Orbital sleeping in the kitchen. Why he was in there, Hart didn't even want to know. "Orbital!" he screamed. "Wake up before I rewire your circuitry!"

Orbital jumped at that threat. "No, Master Kite, I wasn't sleeping," he said. (Obviously he was if he thought Hart was Kite.) "I was simply resting my ocular sensors." Then he stopped. Hart looked at him with a Kite-like scowl. "Oh. G-Good morning, Master H-H-Hart."

Hart was fuming. "Orbital, get in my room and hurry! Kite's sick!"

That sent Orbital spiraling into the room like a rocket, complete with dent in the door and knick in the doorstop.

Orbital gave Kite a quick scan, which wasn't easy because of how he was positioned. Kite was resting on his side, and it's not a good picture if the patient is sitting like that. The picture would look like an A over a C. Not at all pretty.

Orbital's scan answered one question but brought up another. Kite was healthy, for someone who had used Photon Transformation to its limit. The only question was **why** was Kite sick like that? "Well, I can't f-find anything wrong with him," Orbital said sadly. "But then again, I'm n-no doctor. I'd recommend getting him to o-one as s-soon as he's able."

That didn't ease Hart's worries in the least. "Stop worrying, Hart," Kite finally managed to say, though his voice was still very raspy. "I'll be fine. It's okay."

"Kite," Hart said worriedly. He reached up and felt his brother's forehead. It was still warm, but his temperature was going down. "You get some rest. I'm gonna go get Dad and let him know about this."

Just as Hart reached the door, Kite grabbed his wrist. "That's okay, Hart," he said. "I'm fine now. He doesn't have to know yet." He definitely was starting to sound better if only his disheveled appearance didn't belie that.

"Why don't you want Dad to know?" Hart asked, trying to sound as angry and grown up as he could.

"Dad's been trying to be our dad again, remember?" Kite asked. Hart nodded. "I don't want him to start worrying about me when he's already got enough on his plate."

Hart ripped his hand from his brother. "I'm not gonna lie if Dad asks, got me?" he asked.

Kite nodded. "Thanks, Hart," He said. By that time, the most he felt was lightheaded.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

True to Hart's words, he didn't speak a word about Kite's sickness prior to getting out of bed that morning. But that didn't stop him from being nervous when Kite went to school, leaving him at Heartland Middle. Hart finally understood what Kite had experienced when he was sick. A fear constantly eating at your sanity, worry racking your body, that person being the only thing on your mind when you're apart. Hart was now experiencing those emotions firsthand. And he wasn't enjoying them in the least. The only thing keeping him calm was the fact that Orbital was going to make sure Kite went to the doctor for his monthly checkup.

But the worry didn't leave Hart. All through school, the expression on his face was easily readable. Yuma saw it and instantly saw the worry and confusion in his face. He had seen it on Kite's face whenever he was worried about Hart, so he knew it right away. "Hey, Hart, what's the matter?" Yuma asked during lunch time.

Hart was keeping his mouth shut, refusing to say or eat anything. "Is there something wrong with Kite?" Yuma asked, earning a shocked look on Hart's face.

"Maybe he can help Kite," Hart thought. He gulped. "I'm worried about him," he said. "Last night, at dinner, Kite saved me from a blank Number card that snuck into my new deck."

"A Number?" Astral asked, floating before them as he always did. "Tell me, where is the Number now?"

"Kite threw it away," Hart reported. "But after he did that, he got tired and he had to go to bed. And this morning, he was sick. He had a temperature and he looked in pain. But when Orbital scanned his body, he said that everything was normal for Kite. Then he started getting better under the course of just a few minutes. I don't know what happened. I'm getting really worried."

Yuma wanted to comfort Hart. He looked so sad and worried. "Don't worry, Hart," he said. "Kite will be just fine. He lost to Vetrix and walked away from it, for crying out loud."

"Only because YOU retrieved his soul after you won!" Hart yelled, breaking his chopsticks in his fist.

"Sorry, Hart," Yuma said, hoping to avoid this little boy's wrath.

"It's okay," Hart said, calming himself down. "I shouldn't have snapped. It's just...it's just like when Kite started getting really tired after dueling. And to add to the whole thing, Kite doesn't want Dad to know anything about it. He said that Dad's got so much on his plate right now, he doesn't want to make matters harder by making him worry about him."

"I fail to see how informing his father would add more to his plate," Astral said, being literal as usual. "Worry is not a solid thing."

"Astral," Yuma snapped. "He means that Dr. Faker is busy with so many things right now, telling him would only throw all those things out of whack."

"I see," Astral said. (He has his pride. He's not about to say anything else stupid.)

Hart wasn't listening. He pulled out his new D-gazer and D-pad. Kite had purchased them for him as a birthday present, but that's the problem about having a roommate. The roommate is certain to figure it out. Especially if you hide it somewhere in a closet. Hart's D-pad was a light blue one with a gold outline while his D-gazer was more of an aquamarine color with a yellow glass. He clicked his D-gazer to produce a picture of his brother that had been taken when Kite was around six years old. He was holding baby Hart in his arms. You've never seen a kid smile so proudly after becoming an older brother. "Brother," he mumbled sadly.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Well, there's been no changes in your health, Mr. Tenjo," the doctor said. "It was probably just fatigue. You said you just recently started school again, right?"

Kite nodded. He was sitting on the doctor's exam table, pulling his grey shirt back over his head. This was the third time he'd gone through this exam, and the Twenty Questions game was starting to become annoying.

The doctor looked back at Kite's latest x-ray. "Have you contracted any sicknesses prior to this recently?" he asked.

"No," Kite said. "Just a minor cold a week ago, but that was closer to a twenty-four hour bug."

"I see," the doctor said, taking his attention away from the x-rays. "Have you been near anything you're allergic to?"

"I'm not allergic to anything, so no."

"Did you eat anything that didn't agree with you?"

"No." (He didn't eat breakfast and he barely ate dinner.)

The doctor scratched his head. Both Kite and Orbital had to explain what had happened in such detail, that Orbital was on the verge of thinking Kite might have contracted a disease or something that was incurable. But the doctor was just as baffled as they were. "It's a possibility that you were suffering an aftereffect of using Photon Transformation. You said you haven't been feeling its effect for a while, so it's possible that you simply felt the effects all at once, when you were too tired to resist the effects. The best medicine I can recommend right now is get plenty of rest. If that happens again, call me. You're free to go now, Mr. Tenjo."

"Thank you, doctor," Kite said. He was more than happy to get out of there.

He left the doctors office with Orbital in tow. "Well, it's a relief to hear th-that," Orbital said. (As if you have to guess.) "Master Hart will be very relieved to know you're doing fine."

Silence.

Unbearable silence.

"O-One thing is puzzling me, Master K-Kite," Orbital said. "If it was simply from Ph-Photon Transformation, why was it that bad? You've suffered the effects before, but they've never left you near bed-ridden."

Orbital was dead wrong. On many occasions, the Photon Transformation had worn him down so badly, his body screamed for a bed. But because of his stubbornness and Hart's illness, he often forced his legs to move and his hands to grab his cards to duel. "M-Master Kite," Orbital continued. "Are you sure that Number didn't infect you?"

"I was using Photon Transformation, Orbital," Kite said. "That Number couldn't have affected me."

"Are you sure?" One glance, Kite. One quiet robot, Orbital.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Aw, come on, Shark," Rio screamed in annoyance. "I've been out of the hospital for a while now. Why do you insist that I get a check-up every other week?"

"I don't insist," Shark denied. "The doctors do. And I'm not about to see you in a hospital bed again. So I'm going with it." The male twin then started pushing his sister into the hospital just as Kite started walking out, causing Rio to bump into him.

"Oh, Kite," Rio exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing special," Kite said. "Just leaving. What about you?"

"My brother's forcing me to undergo a torture called a check-up," Rio said, jerking her thumb at the silently fuming Shark.

"Oh, really?" Kite said, placing his hands in his pockets. "Who's your doctor?"

"Doctor Doom," Rio said jokingly. Kite raised an eyebrow. He never heard of Doctor Doom. (If you haven't, you've never seen the Fantastic Four.) "I'm kidding. It's Doctor Polar."

His doctor. "Oh, him?" Kite asked.

"Yeah, any advice?"

"Not really," Kite said, walking away. "Just prepare yourself for Twenty Questions."

Now it was Rio's turn to be confused. (She's never played Twenty Questions.)

As Kite started walking away from the hospital, Shark sighed. "Could that guy get any more annoying?" he asked, ruffling his purple hair.

Rio's eyes then turned red. "The Number is draining him," she said in a trance-like state.

Shark turned and looked at his sister. "Rio? What are you talking about?"

"The Number has come to steal something of great importance, and the galaxy shall tremble before its greatest nightmare." Then her eyes changed back and she fell into her brother's arms.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kite was walking back to the school. Suddenly a throbbing pain hit his heart and he had to steady himself against a wall. "M-Master Kite!" Orbital screamed, running, or rolling, to his master. "Are you alright, Master Kite?"

Kite didn't answer for a minute. "I'm alright now," he answered, the throbbing in his chest fading away. "What the heck was that? For a moment, it felt like I was going to explode. What could it mean?" He pushed himself away from the wall and continued to walk back to school.

But that wasn't the end of those attacks. Almost every hour, he felt a throb in his chest and a tingle in his right hand. Apparently he wasn't hiding it very well because Clyde walked over to him after the final had rung, a look of concern plaguing his face. "What is it now, Clyde?" he asked.

"You feeling okay, Kite?" he asked, his hands in his pant's pockets. "You've looked really bad ever since lunch time."

"I'm fine," Kite said. He then attempted to get out of his chair only to nearly fall forward, kept still only by his desk. His legs felt like jelly, his arms felt like lead, and his head felt like it was about to explode. (Like I said, he wasn't hiding it very well.)

"You don't look 'fine,' Kite," Clyde said sarcastically. "You look ill."

Kite ignored him and started walking away. "You know, Kite, I may have been a bit of a jerk to you when we were kids, but that doesn't mean I don't care about your health," he said, turning to face Kite's back. "You were pretty underweight back then and you never ate right. I think of you as my friend and the last thing I want is for you to get hurt simply because you're ignoring your health."

Kite didn't turn when he heard that. He was afraid that Clyde would see the surprise on his face. "I have to get going," he said, ducking the subject altogether. "Hart's waiting for me to pick him up from school."

"Is your brother short with blue hair and bright golden eyes?" Clyde asked, directing his attention to the window.

"Yeah," Kite said. "What made you believe he was real? Last I checked, you claimed he was a figment of my imagination, just like my father."

"I did," Clyde admitted. "But that was before I saw him downstairs waiting for you."

"What?" Kite asked, running over to the window. "What's he doing over here?"

"Waiting for you, I imagine," Clyde said, just as Kite ran out of the classroom and down to the main school doors.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Kite discovered that Hart was outside the school, he was out of the classroom like a rocket. He was out of breath by the time he reached Hart, but very few could blame him as he sprinted to Hart. Not jogged. **Sprinted**. "What are you doing over here, Hart?" he asked in between breaths.

"I came to wait for you," Hart said in reply.

"I thought we agreed that I'd pick you up after school."

"Orbital filled me in about your doctor's appointment." Kite gulped. "So I decided to pick you up, since my schoolwork ends earlier than yours does."

"You didn't have to do that, Hart," he said softly.

"Well, you don't have to pick me up after school," Hart pointed out. "I can very easily walk home, or use my skateboard, or accept Chris' offer of driving me home."

Hart had Kite there. "So let's go," Hart said, taking Kite's hand and starting for home. He didn't want Kite to see the anguish on his face. He didn't want him to see it yet. Not after he'd seen it for so long.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They opened the door to be greeted by Faker. "Good afternoon, boys," he said, taking his nose out from the book that he was currently reading. Not surprisingly, it wasn't a novel. This book was more of a science-oriented book. "How was school today?"

"Made it through," Kite said, hoping like the child he used to be that Faker wouldn't bring up the problem question.

"Great, I guess," Hart said with less enthusiasm than he wanted.

Faker noticed the lack of happiness that Hart so often had, but ignored it. He had a good idea as to the problem behind it anyway. "Kite," he said, "how was your doctor's appointment?"

"According to him, I'm healthy," Kite said, hoping that Faker wouldn't ask for details.

"According to him, sure," Orbital said. "But Master Kite's been-"

Kite stopped him from saying anything else by glaring at him and placing his foot on Orbital's hand.

"Been what?" Faker asked.

"Nothing," Kite said in reply. Hart wanted to speak up, but he remembered that Kite didn't want Faker to know. "I'm going to do my homework."

He made good on his escape right there.

When Kite left the room, Hart felt the uneasiness that accompanied staying in a room with Faker. "Is something the matter, Hart?" Faker asked.

To heck with his promise. Hart said he wouldn't lie, and Kite was very sick. Orbital had informed him about the attacks that he had been suffering throughout the day and maybe Faker could help. "Well, Dad," Hart began. "It's Kite. The doctor said he was alright, but-"

Hart stopped abruptly when he heard a loud thud coming from the room. "Kite?!" he exclaimed, running into the room with Faker running behind him.

Hart opened the door, not caring about knocking first and found Kite on the floor, passed out, sweating, and motionless.

"KITE!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**D.T.B: Well, that chapter's over. Not how I originally intended to end it, but it will work in the end. Any questions?**

**Kite: Who's Doctor Doom?**

**D.T.B: *Laughing her head off.* I can't believe you asked that! He's a comic book character! Read up, dude! *Eases laughter and wipes a tear.* Okay, any other questions?**

**Orbital: Why did that doctor know about Photon Transformation?**

**D.T.B: Why didn't you stutter when you asked that? It's because he was the doctor from Heartland Tower prior to its early destruction. You weren't the only one checking up on Kite, you know. Like you said, you're no doctor. And thanks to that unfortunate explosion after the duel between Vector and Kite, Shark, and Yuma, that doctor was out of a job. Last Question.**

**Hart: How will the next chapter go?**

**D.T.B: Finally a question worth answering! *Pats Hart on the head.* Remember when I said 'calm before the storm' a few chapters ago? Well this is the beginning of the storm. You better be ready to welcome a familiar face from the past. Trust me. It's gonna get good. We might even have an actual duel soon.**

**Kite: Good. Maybe you'll get lucky and I won't sic Galaxy-eyes on you.**

**D.T.B: If only I was that lucky. Go read your script so you can kill me next chapter! Bye, guys.**

**Hart: Bye, everybody. See you next chapter.**


	5. Possession

**D.T.B: Just a head's up. This will be the last chapter I shall post for a while. NaNoWriMo is coming up and I'm one of the participants. Writing fanfiction and writing a novel at the same time wouldn't exactly be the easiest thing, so this will go on hold until I get back.**

**[Kite then walks in.]**

**Kite: I've just read that stupid script like you told me to! Why the heck am I-**

**D.T.B: Don't talk like that, Kite! You'll ruin the story.**

**Kite: You spared Astral because of his pride. Now you're making me go through this?**

**D.T.B: Yes. Don't worry, you'll get over it. And besides, that line isn't even in this chapter. Stop freaking out like that. You'll ruin the next scene.**

**Kite: When this stupid fanfic is over, you shall become food to Galaxy-eyes.**

**D.T.B: Can someone take Misael Junior and escort him out of here, please? He's starting to talk like him. *After Kite is escorted out. * Okay, here's the chapter. Don't worry. What Kite was freaking out about is next chapter. Or maybe the chapter after. I dunno. All I can say is that you don't have to worry yet. Enjoy~!**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Possession**

* * *

Kite was standing in Hart's old bedroom. The stars on the ceiling, the colors on the floor, the unoccupied bed that Hart so often slept in. He remembered all of it. It was the size of a family room, something Hart stated was very uncomfortable after getting better. (That right there was the reason the boys were sharing a room roughly half the size of Hart's old bedroom.)

But as Kite examined the room with a sense of nostalgia, a fear crept up his spine. Where was Hart? "Hart?" he asked worriedly. "Hart, where are you?!"

"Kite!" Hart's little voice rang out.

Kite turned and ran out of Hart's bedroom. As he ran down the familiar halls, his clothes began to change from his Number Hunter gear to his old pink shirt, brown pants, and suspenders. While he didn't notice this, he did feel like he was back in a nightmare.

Finally, he saw him. Hart was being pulled further and further away from him. "Kite!" the little boy screamed with tears streaming down his face.

"Hart! No!" Kite screamed, holding his hand out to reach for his brother's shoulder. But large bars prevented him from even getting close to his little brother. "Not again! Hart, no!"

Hart had disappeared into the darkness.

Now Kite was alone. All over again.

"Hart's illness is very unique," a slithery voice said from behind him. Kite recognized that voice. He'd need hypnotherapy to even begin to forget it. "The only way you can see him again is if you choose to work for Dr. Faker and collect things called Numbers."

Kite began to tremble with rage. "Why you, Heartland!" he screamed, readying a fist to punch the green-suited man's lights out. But what he saw wasn't Heartland as he usually looked. He saw a monster with green fur around his eyes like a raccoon's mask and large fangs. The sight alone was enough to make Kite scream with horror, but the fact that the monster tried to eat him definitely added to the terror.

* * *

Kite awoke in his bed, screaming from his nightmare. He looked around as he forced himself to calm down and found that he was safe. It had only been a dream. "Thank goodness," he thought, sighing with relief.

"Kite!" Hart screamed. For a moment, Kite thought that his dream was no dream at all, but then Hart came in, still dressed up in his uniform, and that calmed him down. "Kite, are you okay?!" Hart asked worriedly.

"Hart," Kite said, like the loving brother he was. "I'm fine. Just had a bad dream."

Hart didn't hear that last part. He ran up to his brother and hugged him too quickly to want to hear it. "You fainted," Hart said, "so I was worried. I told Dad everything. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Hart," Kite said, rubbing his brother's back to comfort him. "I didn't mean to scare you like that."

It was at that point that Faker came in. "Are you feeling better, Kite?" he asked, his face showing how worried he and Hart had been.

"I'm fine," Kite said, despite the strange feeling of bile coming up his throat. It might not have been a good idea to sit up so quickly. "I just had a bad dream, that's all."

"Just had a bad dream?" Hart repeated. "Sounded more like a nightmare."

"Hart, think you could go and keep an eye on Orbital?" Faker quickly asked. "I think he nearly blew a fuse while he was freaking out like that."

"Okay," Hart said, letting go of his brother to go check up on the metal member of the Tenjo family.

As soon as Hart left the room, Faker sat down on Kite's chair. "Now, tell me the truth, Kite," he said. "I know you're anything but fine." Kite wanted to deny it, but the fact that the room kept spinning did little to make his claim believable. "I had Orbital give you a quick scan after you fainted," Faker continued. "He said that you looked like you were torn apart from the inside."

"I haven't been sleeping well," Kite said, holding his head to stop the spinning.

"A lack of sleep wouldn't put you in that condition," Faker nearly snapped. "You look worse than you did when you were collecting Numbers."

Numbers. That was the one word he didn't want to hear. Because Numbers reminded him of Number Hunting, and that in turn, reminded him of Heartland. Or the monster that he had dreamed was Heartland. "I don't understand what's happening either, Father," Kite said. "I just haven't been feeling well for the past few days."

"Could it have been the Number that you threw away a few days ago?" Faker speculated.

"I was using Photon Transformation," Kite said. "It couldn't have done anything to me."

Faker looked at his son worriedly. Though Kite was trying to look healthy, his paler than normal face and hazy eyes clearly said he was sick. He got out of the chair and felt his son's forehead, earning a reddened face from Kite. "You're burning up, Kite," Faker reported.

Kite was afraid of that. He didn't have time to be that sick. Even if he had to skip class, he still had to take Hart to school. "I'll be fine," Kite said, hoping his father would leave it at that.

But of course, his father didn't. "Kite, you haven't been this sick since you were a child," he said. "I'm worried about you."

"You don't have to be worried about me," Kite defended.

"Kite, Hart hasn't been as healthy as he is now since the day he was born," Faker said, placing his hands on his son's shoulders. "Don't you even think of saying I should be more worried about him."

Busted. That's just what Kite was going to say.

"You try and get some real sleep. I'll bring you something later."

Sleep. Kite didn't want to sleep. He was afraid he'd see that monster again. But one look from his father and he suddenly realized where he got his talent in deathly glares. (You know, the ones that freak Orbital into silence.) He nodded slowly, like he did once as a child, and laid back down in his bed.

* * *

Faker closed the door softly, so as not to disturb Kite's sleep, if he could welcome it. Kite's habit of keeping his health a secret was a very strong and equally irritating one. And it had only increased when he was a Number Hunter. Keeping secrets from Heartland was his specialty, and that included his condition. Faker had figured that out during Kite's duel with Vetrix. He had no knowledge prior to that that Kite was in any sort of pain. "Kite," he thought, staring at his son's door. (It had pretty designs on it, courtesy of Hart.) "You really need to break that habit of keeping your health problems locked up."

Then the doorbell rang. Faker walked up to the door and answered it. (Before you people start to wonder about the bell, the part of Heartland Tower they're living in is closer to a house than a tower. The rest of the Tower is still under construction. Don't forget that.) Before him stood Clyde. "Hi," he said. "You Mr. Tenjo?"

"I'm Kite's father if that's what you're wondering," Faker answered. "May I help you?"

"Not really," Clyde said, holding out a laptop. "I'm one of Kite's classmates in school and he left this on his desk today. So I just figured I should return it to him. Took me a while to find his address." Clyde then held the laptop further out to Faker, who took it in his large hands.

"Thank you, Mr...," Faker said, wondering about the boy's name.

"It's Clyde," he answered. Then he chuckled. "Well, guess I owe Kite an apology." Faker raised an eyebrow. "It's nothing special. See you later, Mr. T."

Then Clyde left before Faker could even begin to correct him and point out his lack of proper manners.

When Clyde was out of eyeshot, Faker looked down to the laptop in his hand. A small note was sticking out of it. He pulled it out quickly and read it. "_Yo, Kite. You forgot this. Take care."_ No name. Something told Faker that Clyde and Kite were not on the best of terms. But Faker smiled nonetheless. At least Clyde was trying to be Kite's friend. And that was no easy task.

* * *

Later that night, Faker had attempted to bring Kite some dinner, only to hear that Kite was not hungry. Not wanting to bother him further, Faker returned to the table. It was a bad time for Faker to want to give him some space. Had he gone in, he would have seen that Kite was in a worse state then he had left him. He was sweating from his temperature, even with the medicine and wet rag that Hart had given him. (The medicine didn't work and the cloth was now on the ground.) He was tossing and turning, all the while having yet another nightmare. "No," he said in his sleep. "Heartland, stay away from him. You can't...you can't have Hart." He then covered his ears as if to block out a voice, revealing a bright green 99 on his right hand.

* * *

(In his dream.)

Kite was running from Heartland's patrol helicopters. He had left Hart in a safer place, hoping that he could lure the helicopters away from his little brother. He was running down an alleyway and bumped into something. Something furry and very large. "Out of my way," Kite said, only to lose his voice after seeing what he was just about insult.

A jet black creature with a green mask of fur. It was on four legs and had its fangs bared at Kite. Kite started backing away from it, fear taking hold of every muscle in his body. "Go away," he said, hoping his glare would scare the creature into submission.

It didn't work.

"Let the Number take hold," the monster said, it's voice very deep and gruff.

"Number?" Kite asked, backing away still. "What Number? I don't have any Number. Just go away and leave me alone!"

"I can't," the monster said. "I've been charged with possessing you by the greatest Number. Lord Number 96."

(This guy's got one big ego.)

The monster then became a black mist and leapt at Kite. Kite, meanwhile, had tried to run away, only to be doused in the monster's black substance. "Get off of me!" Kite screamed, seconds before being completely enveloped in the darkness.

* * *

(In the real world.)

Kite continued to toss and turn, all the while covering his ears with his hands. Suddenly, the number on his hand lit up even brighter than it ever had before and his eyes opened up in terror, now green instead of the usual greyish-blue that he had been born with. Within seconds, the terror eased up and he sat up in his bed and looked at his deck, now glowing with a white light. He grinned maliciously at his deck, his eyes narrowing like they did when he was preparing for a hunt.

* * *

**D.T.B: Well, that's trouble. Next chapter, we finally get a duel! Any ideas as to who's gonna duel Kite?**

**Hart: Dad?**

**Yuma: Me! I'm gonna duel him!**

**D.T.B: Uh, Yuma, hate to break it to you, but you were not the first person on my list.**

**Clyde: I'm not dueling him, right?**

**D.T.B: *Laughing. * Clyde, have you seen your deck? Against Galaxy-eyes, you'd be toast before the duel even started.**

**Durbe: Is it one of us?**

**D.T.B: Close, Durbe! But no. Hey, where's Kite?**

**Hart: Sulking. He read the script, remember?**

**D.T.B: Oh, yeah. Forgot. Well, looks like I get to live to see another chapter. Please welcome the Barian Emperors next chapter prior to the duel's actual start. They've got a part in this, regardless of how small it is. Bye~!**


End file.
